


A Very Walking Dead Thanksgiving

by anemic_cinema



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Action, Crack, F/F, Fluff and Crack, Humor, M/M, Romance, violence against an animal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-28
Updated: 2013-11-28
Packaged: 2018-01-02 21:50:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1062040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anemic_cinema/pseuds/anemic_cinema
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They'd faced the worst together, but they weren't prepared for this. Content Warning: Contains a relatively graphic scene of violence against a turkey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Very Walking Dead Thanksgiving

When the high pitched scream rang out through the farm, everyone who heard it froze. It was second nature now to be hyper-vigilant, waiting for the slightest sign of danger. Something as small as the sound of a branch breaking could send them into cold sweats and raised hairs. A scream could either freeze a person or send them running to help. For Daryl, who had been on watch duty, the reaction was fight instead of flight. He clambered down from the RV and started running towards the direction the scream had come from. Glenn had been chopping wood, and joined Daryl in running, still holding onto the ax he'd been using. 

“Where'd that come from?” The younger man shouted out.

Daryl took a minute to orient himself. It had definitely come by the barn, and he motioned Glenn to follow his lead. In the distance behind him, he could hear Lori screaming that Carl was gone. Typical. Goddamn kid couldn't follow directions for nothing. Daryl didn't understand why Lori or Rick couldn't control the kid, he was always getting up to something or getting into something or other. He saw a figure running towards them from afar. Yep, it was definitely the kid, and he was running like his life depended on it, that stupid wide brimmed hat bouncing up and down as he scrambled across the field. Daryl unsheathed his knife, searching out what the hell could be chasing Carl. 

Carl stumbled and fell in front of him, panting and huffing. “Jesus, are you ok?” Glenn asked, grabbing his arm and hauling him up. In between breaths Carl choked out “Ru-ru-...run!” The two men looked around. There were no walkers to be seen. “What the hell is going on?” Glenn sounded as confused as confused can be. Suddenly, Daryl spied motion in the grass. It wasn't a walker, it was too damn low to the ground to be. A loud putting noise rang out, and Daryl blanched. He recognized that sound, and it was not a good sign. 

With a loud rustling noise, the thing that had been chasing Carl crashed out of the tall grass. It was the biggest goddamn wild turkey any of them had ever seen. It was as tall as a large dog, and wide as hell. It was an amazing looking beast, glossy and shining in the sunlight, its tail feathers standing proud like a fan.

Glenn grimaced. He'd never seen a wild turkey up close and personal before, and had never realized just how gross their faces were. Its bald head was wrinkled and bumpy, and the loose strip of skin over it's beak was really unsettling to him, especially when it would move its head and make it jiggle and flap around. The skin of its head was bright red, like it was smeared with cheap lipstick. It looked at them and blinked its beady eyes.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Glenn raised his ax and waved it at the bird. “Shoo! Git! Shoo! You dumb bird, get outta here!” 

The turkey was not impressed. It began to make those loud putting, clucking sounds again, and advanced. 

“I think we need to run.” Daryl began backing away slowly.

“What the hell do you mean, it's just a bird.” 

“Goddammit listen to me. I know these kinds of birds. They are big, mean and dumber than a sack of rocks, and they will fuck you up. See them feet? They got sharp fuckin' spurs on their heels.” Daryl hissed. “When I was a kid, Merle got attacked by one and it spurred the hell out of him. He had to get a dozen stitches in his leg.” The turkey lunged forwards a little, it's demeanor becoming more aggressive by the minute. “We need to run like hell.” 

Carl and Glenn nodded, keeping their eyes on the turkey. It ruffled its feathers, making itself look even bigger than it was. It flapped its comically small wings and let out a loud, guttural, gobbling sound. Daryl yelled “RUN!”

All three of them ran in the general direction of the farm. Most everyone had taken refuge on the front porch of the house, except for Andrea and T-Dog. They were standing by the RV, yelling words they couldn't hear over the noises of the pissed off turkey and their own pounding heartbeats. The trio ran to the RV, and Glenn yelled “Get inside!” They piled up the stairs of the RV, and slammed the door shut. The bird flapped and bumped at the door, making an unearthly racket. 

“The fuck is going on?” T-Dog asked. “Is that a turkey?”

Daryl nodded, trying to catch his breath. “It's a goddamn gobbler. A male turkey. They're aggressive as fuck.” He collapsed in the front seat of the RV. “ If they don't see you as dominant they'll try and attack you.”

Andrea yelped as the bird slammed against the door. “Well kill it then!”

Daryl glared at her. “I ain't got my crossbow.”

“What the hell? Where is it?” 

Daryl pointed to the roof of the RV. “Yer welcome to go grab it for me. Just gotta get past that!” The turkey made another angry sound. “Wait a minute, where's that damn ax?”

Glenn looked around. “Aw shit, I dropped it outside.”

“Oh that's just fucking great. Just great.” Daryl ran his hand over his face. “Well we're fucked now, unless those assholes on the porch over there decide to get off their collective asses and help us out.”

Glenn pinched the bridge of his nose. In the past few months he'd been chased by walkers, covered in walker guts, kidnapped by faux gangsters, harassed by a racist redneck (R.I.P Merle S.O.B), escaped an exploding building, and been dropped down a well to tie up a super gross bloated walking corpse, the thought of which still made him want to hurl. After everything that had happened, there was no way he was going to let himself be fucked with by some goofy-ass bird with a hideous face. “Daryl, open the window.”

The older man looked at him. “What?”

“I said, open the window. I'm going up to the roof and grabbing your damn crossbow.”

Daryl blinked. 'The size of the balls on this kid, goddamn.' He thought to himself. He rolled down the window with a creak. Unfortunately, the noise attracted the attention of the gobbler, and it waddled over to that side of the RV, and began bumping into that side and pecking at the wheel. “Carl, what the hell did you do to it to make it so damn angry?” T-Dog asked him.

“What? Nothing!” Carl took off his hat and picked at the brim.

“Bullshit,” Daryl grumbled, “animals don't attack unless they're provoked.” He slid off the drivers seat, making room for Glenn.

“Seriously Carl, what did you do.” Andrea peeked out the window. The turkey made an angry gobbling sound at her and she backed away.

Carl looked down at the floor. “I...I saw it at the edge of the woods. I was throwing rocks at it, I was just trying to make it go away!” T-Dog and Andrea both sighed and exchanged an exasperated look. 

Daryl glared at him. “Kid, be thankful I ain't yer daddy, cause I would smack you upside yer little head if I was.” 

“I didn't think it would get so angry!”

“Guys,” Glenn piped up, “I doesn't matter right now. Just distract the damn thing while I do this ok?” He climbed onto the seat, and sat on the ledge of the window. Andrea started banging on the door of the RV and calling out “C'mon you stupid bird, c'mere. You ugly sonofabitch!” The turkey came back around the RV and began slamming itself against the door again. “This is some serious Cujo-type shit right here.” T-Dog muttered. “Carl, do me a favor, and never mess with anything like that ever again.” 

While they distracted the bird, Glenn shimmed out of the window and stood on the frame. Carefully, he hoisted himself up to the roof of the RV, and landed with a grunt. Daryl's crossbow and arrows were just as he'd left it, propped up against the folding chair on the roof. He grabbed them, and called out to Daryl. “Hey Daryl, look out the window!” The hunter stuck his head out. “Grab it.” He handed down the weapons, and tried to make out where he'd dropped the ax. He heard Rick shout from the porch.

“Is Carl ok?”

“Yeah, he just pissed off this goddamn dinosaur of a bird. Hey, can we get a little help here?Like, help that involves a gun maybe?” 

“We don't have the guns.”

“What the hell? Where are they?”

There was a pregnant pause. “Lemme get back to you on that.”

Glenn groaned. This was just perfect. Looking down, he spied the ax by the front bumper. The turkey had begun to circle the RV, and was still making those creepy gobbling noises. As far as Glenn was concerned, the damn thing sounded like Satan, if Satan was a really gross looking bird. He scooted to the edge of the roof and called out to the others who were inside. “What's the plan guys?” 

Daryl answered. “I'm gonna kill it. No bird makes a fool out of a Dixon. I'm gonna have that bastard for dinner.”

“Ok, good luck on that.”

Daryl scoffed. The Korean kid should know better by now than to doubt his skills at hunting down anything that went on two legs or all fours. “Ok, T-Dog, you open the door when I tell you to, Andrea, take troublemaker over there to the back of the RV.”

Andrea nodded, and motioned to Carl. “You heard the man, c'mon.” She shooed him into the back. “Hey wait a second, why do I have to babysit the kid?”

“'Cause yer a woman, also, you're a skinny little thing and that damn bird's liable to knock you on yer ass.” 

“Hey Dixon,” Daryl glanced over. Andrea stuck up her middle finger. “Sit on it and spin.”

“No thanks, you gotta take me to dinner and a movie first. Open the door.”

T-Dog yanked the door open with a bang. The turkey ambled back towards it and stuck it's head in. Daryl aimed, and shot a arrow through it's side. The bird gobbled maniacally, and ran up the stairs. Apparently, the arrow had missed any vital organs, and now it was really pissed. Daryl let out a panicked yelp as it came for him, kicking out and catching it in the chest with his boot. It flew backwards out of the RV, and T-Dog slammed the door shut. When Glenn saw that it was still alive, he climbed down from the roof and ran for the ax. Andrea rushed out of the RV, not sure exactly what she could do, but wanting to show Daryl that she could handle herself in a dangerous situation, that she was just as big a badass as his tough redneck self. 

The turkey was slightly dazed, but still raring to go. It stumbled towards Glenn, looking ready to tear him a new one with his spurs. “Hold it still, I'm gonna chop its damn head off.” Not knowing what else to do, Andrea tackled it to the ground, wrapping her arms around the sizable creature. It's spurs cut at her torso as she tried to maintain her grip. “DO IT ALREADY!” She screamed as she forced it to the ground, and prayed that Glenn had good aim. 

The young man raised the ax, and brought it down on the turkey's neck, chopping the head clean off. Andrea let it go as it convulsed and died. The front of her shirt was covered in blood, feathers, and turkey crap, and it was torn to shreds. With a howl of disgust, she stripped it off and threw it away from her. “Goddamn it! I liked that shirt!”

T-Dog, Daryl and Carl came out of the RV and stood agape at what they'd just seen. The others rushed down from the house porch, not quite sure what to make of the scene they'd just witnessed, and the grim tableau that laid before them. The once terrific turkey laid there, decapitated, with an arrow sticking out of it. Glenn was still holding onto the now bloodied ax, and Andrea was topless save for her bra, and had gashes on her stomach and chest that were bleeding profusely. 

Carl ran towards Lori and Rick, hiding behind them, glad to be out of danger and scared shitless at what the consequences for his actions might be. They all stood around the dead beast, not sure what to say, or if there was anything to say, really. Herschel coughed. “Andrea, we should probably get you bandaged up...and covered up.” The blonde looked down at herself and her cheeks turned red. “Yeah, lets do that.” She followed him into the house.

Daryl grabbed the bird and held it aloft. “Looks like we're eatin' good tonight!” He turned to Glenn. “Good job kid, you're a natural with that ax.” Glenn's face brightened up with those words. A compliment from Daryl was a rare thing indeed, and not to be taken lightly. 

Dale walked over to the RV and let out a groan. “That damn bird messed up the paint!” He looked at the door of the vehicle. “What the hell?”

“What's wrong?” T-Dog asked him. 

“Look at this!” He pointed out a sizable dent in the door. Apparently the turkey had slammed itself against the door hard enough to leave a mark. “Jeez. I leave the damn thing for a few minutes and this happens.” 

*******

Glenn spent the rest of the day feeling pretty damn good about himself. He'd saved the day after all, and everyone complimented him on his quick thinking in dispatching the offending bird. When Daryl and Glenn handed off the turkey to Maggie, she'd given him a bear hug and congratulated him. “That bastard's been roaming the woods for a long ass time, and he's always been a mean cuss.” She proclaimed as she plucked the feathers from it's body. “You have no idea how long I've dreamed of making him my dinner. My only regret is that I didn't get to chop off his ugly head myself.”

Glenn had no idea the woman had it in her to be so bloodthirsty. He mentioned it to Daryl as they exited the house, and the older man just shrugged and looked away, like he didn't like talking about her. Glenn thought it was kind of a weird reaction, honestly. From what he could tell the two of them got along as well as any two strangers thrown together during an undead apocalypse could get along. Come to think of it, Glenn remembered that Daryl looked uneasy when Maggie had hugged him, adverting his gaze and acting like he'd rather be anywhere else but there. The young man chalked it up to being a little crazed from the adrenaline, and tried not to think too hard about it. But it did make him wonder.

*******

That evening, they all sat in the house and feasted on the bird. When Andrea came to the table, Maggie bolted up and pulled out a chair for her. When the blonde winced as she sat down, the younger woman immediately began fussing over her, asking if she needed a pain killer, if she wanted to have her dinner laying down instead, etc. Andrea felt a little overwhelmed by the sudden outburst of attention, and told her she was fine, thanks. Herschel looked over the scene with no small puzzlement, but just shook his head. Maggie always had had a caring quality about her, especially towards people she liked. Maggie spent the entirety of the dinner next to Andrea, sneaking glances at her. To anyone paying close attention, they might have noticed that she was blushing and smiling at the older woman the entire time.

T-Dog joked that this was like an early Thanksgiving, and all that was missing was some cranberry sauce. They all chuckled at the joke and agreed. Maybe it was the food, or maybe it was just the fact that everyone was more or less safe after the excitement, but it did feel like a holiday. 

After dinner Maggie caught up to Andrea as she was heading out the door. “You should sleep in the house tonight. I mean, you might need something for the pain and resting in a real bed would probably be best considering your injuries.”

“Uh, yeah, that would probably be best.” Maggie was looking at her with those big, bright green eyes and she couldn't help but wonder if she could get her to keep her company for a while. 

“Cool, well, um, if you need anything just lemme know and I'll give it to you. I mean, take care of your needs. I mean, take care of you.” Maggie bit the inside of her cheek. That had not come out right at all. Andrea had to concentrate to keep from giggling at the other woman's flustered state. Yeah, staying inside the house for the night was definitely a good idea.

*******

Although he was the hero of the day, it was still Glenn's turn to be on night watch. As he sat around the fire outside with the others as the hour grew late, he piped up. “So if this is Thanksgiving, what are all of you thankful for?” Shane rolled his eyes, making clear he thought it was a stupid question, and gave a side-long glance over to Rick and Lori. 

“I'm feeling pretty thankful we're all alive.” Lori said. “What about you hon?”

Rick paused, scratching at his scruff. “I guess...I'm thankful for stuff, Lori...things.”

“Stuff? Things? Jesus, that's vague.” T-Dog snorted underneath his breath. “I'm going to bed y'all. Oh, and Glenn, I'm thankful that you showed that turkey who's boss.” He clapped the young man on the shoulder with a chuckle and headed to his tent. Glenn hoisted himself up, and with a goodnight, headed to the RV. To his surprise, Daryl was already on the roof, sprawled out on the deck chair fiddling with one of his arrows in the light of the battery powered lamp sitting by the chair. “Hey, I've got watch, you don't need to be staying up.”

Daryl shrugged and tapped the arrow against the palm of his left hand. “Can't sleep.”

“Still revved up from our little adventure, huh?” Glenn sat down next to the chair. “That was some crazy shit.”

“Yeah.” 

Glenn ran his hand through his hair. The guy was taciturn, that was for sure. “Andrea gets to sleep in the house tonight, lucky her. Maggie all but tackled her down and strapped her to the bed, if you know what I mean.” He nudged Daryl's leg with his elbow.

Daryl gave him a confused look. “What?”

“Oh come on, don't tell me you haven't noticed.”

“Noticed what?” 

Glenn smacked his forehead. “Dude, Maggie is totally sprung on Andrea. She was practically drooling all over her at dinner.”

“She is?” Daryl raised an eyebrow. “Oh. I thought...well...I didn't figure she was that way.”

“Yeah, when we went to the pharmacy all she could talk about was Andrea, asking me questions about her and all that. She's got a massive, middle-school style crush on her.”

“You don't say. Wait is Andrea, you know?” He wiggled his fingers.

“As far as I know, yeah.” Glenn nodded. “She better watch out though, I dunno if Herschel would approve of her messing around with his daughter.”

Daryl made a small grunting noise of agreement. “Yaknow, I could have sworn that Maggie was into you.” He began biting at his fingernails.

“Hah! Yeah, no. She'd be barking up the wrong tree if she was.” Glenn kicked himself for that slip up. Oh well, the cat was out of the bag now.

The older man didn't say anything to that, thank God. There was a lull in the conversation, the both of them looking out over the moonlit field. It was one of those clear nights were you could see all the stars and the moon shone bright as day. 

“So, Daryl, if today is Thanksgiving what are you thankful for?” Glenn asked, looking up at the older man. He didn't answer right away, looking like he seriously mulling over what he was going to say.

“I guess...I'm thankful I met all of you guys.” He mumbled, looking off into the distance. “Before all this happened, I didn't really have no friends.” 

“Aww, that's sweet. Not the 'not having friends' bit, the being thankful you met all of us bit.” The younger man laid flat on his back, looking up at the night sky. “Man, look at those stars. Makes me wish I knew more about what constellations are what and stuff.”

“What about you?”

“Huh?”

“What are you thankful for?” Daryl asked.

“Well, I think the same as you, really. I'm glad I got to meet everyone in our little dysfunctional survivor family. Hell, I'm even glad that I met your redneck ass.” Glenn glanced up at Daryl and was astounded to see the man smiling. Not a little smile, like he would sometimes let flit across his lips. A big, happy smile, the kind of smile you wear to your birthday party when all of your friends sing “Happy Birthday” to you, and you blow out the candles on the cake. And wouldn't you know it, Daryl was pretty cute when he smiled. 

“I'm glad I met you too.” Glenn recognized exactly what those words meant, and it made his heart beat a little faster. The other man got up out of the chair, pushed it aside, and laid down next to him, eyes turned to the skies. “That's the Big Dipper over there.” He pointed with his arrow to a cluster of stars shaped like a pot with a long handle. “That's the only one I really remember.”

Glenn decided then and there that this was the time to make a move. Fortune favored the bold after all. He carefully inched his hand over, and placed it over Daryl's. There was a beat where neither of them moved, and Glenn could have sworn Daryl was holding his breath, or maybe it was him that was holding his breath. Then, the older man's calloused fingers grasped his own and squeezed gently. Glenn thought his heart was about to burst out of his chest like that alien in the old movie. Daryl's hand felt hot and a little sweaty around his own, but he wouldn't have let go for anything in the world. He sneaked a peek at Daryl, and almost lost it when he saw the flush of color in his cheeks, barely noticeable in the moonlight and the electric lamplight. They laid there, looking at the stars, happy and holding hands, thankful that they could.

**Author's Note:**

> The blame for this fic rests squarely on the shoulders of my friend Rhiannon. She posted the line "I'm thankful for stuff, Lori, things." on her facebook, and it planted the seed for this. Also, I was heavily inspired by this story of This American Life (http://www.thisamericanlife.org/radio-archives/episode/452/poultry-slam-2011?act=2) about a wild turkey that terrorized a neighborhood. I hope you all enjoyed this humble holiday offering.


End file.
